Must Be Tuesday
by Micah Johnson
Summary: Mal and Jayne butt heads when another deal goes south for the crew of Serenity.


Jayne fired in a staccato burst and dropped his target into a crumpled heap.

"Gorram it, Jayne!" Mal swung his gun downwards with disappointment. "That was gonna be my shot."

"With his attention drawn to your fanciful pontificatin' I had a clear shot at interruptin' his plans to turn us over to the Feds." Jayne tapped the tip of his gun against his temple in a gesture of his superior mental acumen and then flinched at the still scorching metal.

Muttering, Mal approached the body and lifted its shoulder with the dusty tip of his boot. It slumped lifelessly back to the dirt. Mal checked again with a rough kick to the ribs. "He's dead."

"'Course he is. My Vera's never let me down yet," Jayne said, patting his gun affectionately.

"Tell me, Jayne, how's we gonna get paid if this here corpsified fella ain't accompanying the cargo to Beaumonde? Badger was mighty specific as to the terms and conditions of said arrangement. No escort, no money." Mal stormed over to Jayne and stared him down with steely eyes. "So unless you plan on shoving your hand up his _pigu_ and puppeting him like a _gou shi de yige fenzhi houzi reng,_ we ain't gettin' paid _."_

"Can't get paid if we're nabbed by the Feds neither!" Jayne growled.

"Aw, he weren't gonna call the Feds," Mal replied with a scornful expression. "It's called intimidation. He was tryin' to weed out the competition for a bigger cut of the loot. Of which there is now none thanks to you, which tarnishes our fine reputation."

Jayne snorted. Mal's notion of their reputation bordered on delusional. "You was gonna shoot him anyhow."

"In the leg! Then we'd tie him up, gag him, Simon would patch him up and we'd be on our merry way. Badger made no stipulations as to his condition upon arrival, so long as he was breathin'."

Jayne returned Mal's scowl and didn't back down until he heard the approaching clang of boots descending the grate of Serenity's ramp.

"We heard gunfire, somethin' go amiss?" Kaylee called. Preceding her, Zoe silently assessed the situation and raised an eyebrow.

"The rotten _yige wang enfuyi de bailei xishun de erzi_ turned on us," Jayne answered and spat at the body.

Kaylee gasped when she noticed their short-lived partner lying dead in the dirt.

"Well, you do have that effect on our partners," said Zoe. Before Jayne could return any defense, Zoe turned to Mal and sighed, "So that mean we ain't gettin' paid again, Cap'n?"

"'Fraid so." Mal turned from Jayne and stooped to check the pockets of the man who would have secured their much-needed payday. He pulled an odd blinking device, smeared with blood, from the man's inner coat pocket. Unease crept over his face. "Zoe..."

Zoe briskly paced over to him and her eyes widened. "That's a remote transmitter."

"He wasn't threatening to turn us in, he already did." Mal flung the device to the ground and smashed it under his heel.

"See, what'd I tell ya!" Jayne crowed.

Mal ignored the declaration. "Everyone, back on the boat. Zoe, tell Wash to break atmo and prepare for full burn. Kaylee, Jayne, gather the others and dump the cargo."

Kaylee protested,"But Cap'n, we only just loaded it-"

"NOW."

She scampered alongside Jayne back into Serenity's gaping cargo hold and he tossed her a walky-talky to split the task of summoning their shipmates.

The crew emerged from their quarters and swarmed Mal with questions. River drifted out behind Simon in a dream-like state and whispered, "One should not be surprised when the rabid dog bites."

Mal barreled past them. "I've got a call to make."

Mal felt Serenity's engines roar to life just as the blue-tinted image of Badger crackled onto the com-screen.

The tinny speakers reported, "Checking in early, are we?"

"It seems your man interpreted our deal to mean CALL THE FEDS."

Badger's eyebrows lifted. "Really! How interesting."

"Do you mean to tell me that I've been laborin' under a false impression of our business arrangement?" Mal strained to keep his voice level.

"You see, Malcolm... you've caused a fair bit of unrest among my league of upstanding businessmen. I admit that it tickles me when you throw a wrench in the engine of my competitors, but when you start bleeding MY profits – let's just say I'm not so tickled."

"And you think gettin' into bed with the Alliance will do you wonders?"

"Hence the intermediary."

"Your _intermediary's_ got a hunk of lead in his gizzard."

Badger shrugged complacently. "All the same, you'll be in the loving embrace of the Alliance at any moment. I'm very well acquainted with your enduring affinity for them." His mouth curled into a malevolent grin.

Mal pounded his fist on the console. "We had a DEAL!"

"Your sense of honor and decency in this line of work is a source of endless bewilderment to me, _Captain_ Reynolds," Badger spat the honorific. "It might be the reason for the thorn in my side but it's also exactly how I led you into this mire."

Mal glowered at the screen wishing he could throttle Badger through the vast reaches of interstellar space between them. "This means war."

Badger howled with laughter. Then he adjusted his dusty hat and leaned toward the screen. "You and what army?"

Righteous fury boiled Mal's blood with an intensity he hadn't felt since the betrayal that had lost him the War. If Badger aimed to strike through that ever-present wound, Mal determined to inflict some wounds of his own. "Go ahead and laugh. As soon as I shake the Feds – and I will – I'm comin' for you."


End file.
